Kins Strife
by Hiding
Summary: The war between High and Dark elves is ready entering a new stage as both sides are having enough of their kin, High Elves PoV. Bad summary I know but this is my first try at a fanfic and i'd appreciate any reviews.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Warhammer is not mine, unfortunately...  
  
***  
  
The birds that continued to hover overhead were beginning to get on Anahids nerve. Taking his eyes off the animals he surveyed his men, of whom many, like he, were observing the sky, that continuously grew darker as the sun faded and birds of prey gathered. Others were watching the horizon. The unit the young noble was currently in, had left it's watch tower when word reached their commander that a Druchii raiding party had landed. The civilians that ran by earlier confirmed his fears. Already riders had been sent to gather reinforcements and their commander, mage Chireaden had decided to await the dark kins arrival. Anachid swore silently, to await Isha knows how many blood thirsty traitors with fifty men. Fifty!  
  
"At least he had enough sense to pick a defensible position."  
  
- he thought looking at the archers and spearmen ranked behind him. Unfortunately, there were none of the more famous units, Sword Masters, Dragon Princes, Phoenix Guard, Tiranoc Chariots... not even a unit of Sea Guard or Silver Helms. Once again he presented his idea about the mages strategy to the unit commanders that were around him,  
  
"For once I agree with you, I would also prefer trying to reach one of our outposts and form a larger unit before meeting our kin."  
  
"Look at it this way",- Gireon, a commander of one of the archer units joined the conversation, "if we fall back we will abandon this land for the invaders to pillage, while staying here we will force them to attack us and give the people of this area a chance to escape."  
  
"Yet staying here also means that we do not possess the strength to repel them. I still think..." .  
  
"Gentlemen."- this one word made the young nobles jump slightly before they turned around and hastily bowed their heads.  
  
Chireaden with a wave of his hand made it clear that he didn't require them to bow, when they straightened he spoke again,  
  
"I suggest that you put aside your discussions and get to your units, the enemy is near."  
  
Saying this he moved back to the top of the hill that he had chosen as his location an hour ago. Silently the nobles did as they were told, though they may not agree with the mages' orders they were still honor bound to listen to whomever their head commander selected to command them. A few minutes had passed before they saw them, dark shapes rode from the forest only to flee back after a volley of arrows. None of the High Elves had any illusions that this was merely their scouts. They didn't have to wait long for the main force. A shouting, jeering mass, pale skin distinct against dark armor and robes. Banners with mutilated runes held high. In a matter of seconds Anahid once more began cursing the mages decision of waiting. The Druchii soon began running towards them.  
  
"Archers! Notch Arrows!"  
  
Archers reached to their quivers, placed the arrows on strings and pulled  
them to the ear, the Druchii continued running, fueled by their hatred  
and will to slay their kin.  
  
"Loose Arrows!"  
  
The sound of arrows piercing the air was heard even above the Dark Elves  
howling. Even before the volley hit the order to notch was repeated and  
another volley hit the Druchii.  
  
"Spearmen! Shield Wall!"  
  
Anahid repeated the order, at the same time kneeling along with the first rank, the second stepped forth and placed their shields atop those of the ones in front, those in further ranks formed something of a roof. A moment after the formation was finished, a clatter of steel against wood informed him that the dark kin were trying to weaken the ranks of spearmen for the attackers, though they did not take into account that the shields of the High Elves were large enough to protect them better from the hail of bolts that the Druchii loosed from their crossbows than the shields of other races.  
The shout of ,  
  
"Shoot at will!"  
  
informed him that the enemy was getting close, moving his shield slightly  
he was in time to notice a number of lights disintegrate the first rank  
of the Druchii. Chireaden was useful for something after all. Another  
volley of bolts struck the shield wall as Anahid shouted the psychic  
order that he received from the mage,  
  
"Spearmen! Form up for advance!"  
  
Even before the spearmen reformed he shouted the next order,  
  
"Charge!"  
  
The ranks of spearmen ran down the hill into the ranks of their kin,  
because of the speed gained, they managed to push back the Druchii a  
number of meters before halted. The two walls of spears and shields met  
with a clash. Archers renewed their volleys aiming at something Anahid  
could not see, though he guessed that it was the Dark Riders trying to  
find a way to outflank the defensive positions of the high elves. A magic  
blast must have made the attempt vain as arrows once more began falling  
on the further ranks of the Druchii.  
Thrusting his spear Anahid pushed the spear point into the Druchii's bare  
throat, wrenching it out he noted with some satisfaction that the dark  
one tried in vain to catch his breath as he fell to the ground.  
Using the moment of respite gained Anahid looked around, though a number  
of his men fell, the Druchii were suffering worse from fighting both up  
hill and against soldiers better trained at fighting with spears.  
He did not get much time as another Druchii waving a sword tried to rush  
him. With some disgust he noticed that it was a woman,  
  
"How could they go so low and use women as soldiers?"  
  
His spear thrust was deflected by the she-elves sword witch, in a  
whistling arc smashed into the side of his shield. Desperate Anahid  
kicked the female Druchii in the leg, it didn't do any harm to the mail  
covered body, but it made the female stumble and lose her guard for a  
second, a second that Anahid used to regain a firm grip of his spear and  
drive it below her breastplate into the hauberk. The mail splintered  
under the force of the thrust, the Druchii could only gasp in pain as he  
twisted the spear in her insides and pulled it out along with some  
innards. As she fell to her knees Anahid stabbed her in the throat ending  
the warrior's life.  
The sun had set leaving the world in the half darkness when the day has  
ended yet the night has not yet began.  
The line of dark elves broke and fled, rushing down the hill, the  
Druchii near the bottom stood there not wanting to attack the position of  
those that had already slain so many of their number, that moment cost  
them a lot. A small hail magic bolts followed by a larger hail of arrows  
rained upon them, the raiders that came expecting an easy victory were  
dumbfounded and lost their nerve and began running. Steeling themselves  
the High Elves once more charged the Druchii.  
Most of the Druchii invaders were either dead or fleeing, yet there was  
still a strong unit awaiting at the base. Corsairs wrapped in their  
dragon cloaks stood ignoring the arrows that fell and deflected off the  
scales. Amongst them stood a figure in armor clearly showing him as the  
leader of the expedition. Many of the dark elves fleeing once more stood  
their ground, whether being inspired by their commander's example or  
because they were more afraid of him than the Asur, was of little  
importance. Slowly they began moving towards the spearmen picking up  
speed while the spearmen braced themselves for the charge. Many of the  
Corsairs were impalled on the spears, though many more ran into the ranks  
of the Asur as combat was renewed. Anahid wrenched his spear free of a  
now dead corsair and deflected the blows of another, putting the shaft  
between the druchii's legs tripping the warrior who was soon slain.  
Anahid barely deflected the next blow and took a step back, finding  
himself fighting the suspected leader of the expedition. The Druchii  
masterly wielded his blade and forced Anahid step by step back. The Asur  
launched himself at his foe who sidestepped his attack and struck out  
with sharp blade, slashing through the top of his opponent's shield.  
Anahid stumbled, but used his spear as a cane and stopped himself from  
falling and stabbed again. The Druchii lord blocked the attack with his  
shield and slashed the spear's blade off with his counter stroke. The  
Asur threw his ruined weapon at his opponent,drew his own blade and  
attacked again. The raider, slightly distracted by the thrown shaft  
hardly blocked the high elves attack, but struck out with his shield  
knocking the Asur in the helmeted head. Anahid stumbled and tried to  
regain his balance, however; the Druchii did not allow him to do so. He  
unleashed the hatred he had for all the residents of Ulthuan, blow after  
blow fell on the high elf turning his shield into a ruin. One of the  
blows fell on his neck, the mail buckled yet held though the wearer fell  
to the ground hitting himself hard in his helmeted head. Dazed Anahid  
looked up to see the Druchii above him ready to deliver the killing blow. 


	2. Chapter 2

Anahid opened his eyes and moaned as yet another night proved to give little rest. Rising from his bed he couldn't help straying to that moment in his mind, when the Druchii's blow had been blocked by the intervention of his men, while the timely arrival of the Reavers leading a small force of cavalry had broken the dark elves' spirit as they fled into the woods of Cothique.  
A victory yes but the memory of his near death had haunted Anahid for a year, to seemingly subside, only to return after six decades.  
Following a short ritual he clothed in a gray robe, around his waist he put a belt of black silk, and picking up his sword he walked towards the balcony. The sun had risen above the mountains to the east blessing the city with its warmth, gulls flew by screeching as they usually do. From the city, despite the early hour came the sound of movement as bakeries opened and fishers arrived with the catch. Farmers from nearby orchards arrived with fruits and all began setting up their stalls at the market place. The ocean glimmered as a silver mirror, broken only by the occasional ship, many of which were sleek warships either returning from patrols or readying to sail. The early light shone brightly on highly polished armor of the Sea Guard patrolling the walls of the city. Closing his eyes Anahid welcomed the new dawn.  
He was disturbed by a knock at the door,  
  
"Come in"  
  
the door opened and the jingle of mail informed him that one of the Sea Guard under his command arrived,  
  
"My lord, the cook is wondering what to set on the table"  
  
"That is of little importance," – he turned around and walked to the door,- "I will be in the garden till it is ready."  
  
"One more thing my lord, a message arrived, I believe it is from your parents, again."- he paused, a hint of a grin appeared on his face before he continued- "You should do what they tell you, otherwise they might decide to take matters in their own hands."  
  
"Thank you Theron, further comments are not required."  
  
Theron gave a roughish smile before bowing and leaving. Anahid silently chuckled, in many ways he liked the younger noble, though only a handful of people knew that. Making his way down Anahid opened the letter. He was expecting yet another reminder that his life numbered more than 4 centuries and this was the prime age for marriage. Entering the garden and reading the letter he was surprised to see that he was wrong,  
  
"Prince Fileandrel summons the lord Anahid to arrive as soon as possible on urgent business."  
  
Somewhat surprised Anahid was ready to summon his servants to prepare him  
for travel when he noticed something at the bottom,  
  
"P.S. When will you finally marry boy?"  
  
Anahid cursed loudly, leaving a servant that had come to inform him that  
breakfast was ready, wide eyed in shock.  
  
**  
  
The guards snapped to attention as Anahid rode past, dismounting he  
looked with renewed awe at the Princes tower. As his father was an  
important figure, he had spent his childhood in these halls, yet after  
the decades since he had left he had forgotten how it glimmered in the  
sun as a spike of pearl and silver. For a moment he stood there taking in  
the surroundings before remembering that he was not here on social  
purposes and strode up the marble steps. Inside, a guard led him through  
chambers filled with statues of ancient heroes and the forefathers of the  
Prince. Banners hung from pillars, while the sun shone through windows of  
multi-colored glass (though some claimed they were made of crystals)  
presenting the scenes displayed there on the floor, scenes presenting the  
ancient days of Ulthuan, days of glory; and on newer windows scenes  
reminding that those days were long gone. They walked across floors of  
marble without a stain. He bowed while still moving to the Prince's kin,  
and accepted the bows of servants and guards. He had heard that the tower  
could hold even a hundred residents comfortably, but these days not even  
half the rooms were taken; another reminder of the passing of the Asur.  
After passing a number of rooms he stood before the master of the house.  
  
"My lord, lord Anahid has arrived."-the steward announced.  
  
Anahid bowed low as the Prince turned towards him, he straightened only  
when the Prince ordered him to rise with a gesture of his hand.  
  
"Anahid, how long would it take you to ready your men for sea travel?"  
  
"If the journey would be a short one, I could get them ready in an hour, the horses could take some more time , but by noon everything would be ready."  
  
"Then ready them at once, our dark kin have struck and we are the nearest force strong enough to fight them with any chance of victory."  
  
"Immediately my lord!"  
  
Anahid left to carry out his lords instructions while Fileandrel remained  
with his staff and began making plans for the conflict at hand.  
  
** 


End file.
